


Cheating on Rosie Palms

by placentalmammal



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Crack, F/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 10:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boone does impure things with a toy dinosaur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheating on Rosie Palms

When he was thirteen years old, Craig Boone tried to stick his dick in a Nuca-Cola bottle. He'd found his older brother's stash of girlie magazines that morning, and his hand was suddenly inadequate for the images filling his mind. Later on, he decided he was damn lucky he wasn't light-footed enough get out to the Brahmin pen undetected in the middle of the night, because at thirteen, he was dumb, desperate, and horny enough to try anything once.

The neck of the bottle was too small for him, but horniness bred tenacity, and after five uncomfortable minutes, he made it. His eyes were watering and he'd have red marks for weeks afterwards, but as he sat in bed, trying to convince himself that it felt good, he felt an almost overwhelming sense of accomplishment, much better than the weak orgasm he achieved a few minutes later.

When the horniness abated, he realized how close he'd come to getting stuck, or worse, to cutting off his own circulation. For weeks afterward, he wondered is there'd ever been a kid who'd lost a dick to a Nuca Cola bottle, and then he decided that if there wasn't, he didn't want to be the first. He wasn't sure if his first girlfriend or knowledge of the pain and shame of masturbating with a Nuca bottle was more instrumental in discouraging future experimentation.

At twenty-six, Boone was too smart to try sticking his dick into anything inanimate and unwilling. There were still times when the feel of his own calloused palms wasn't enough for him, but he'd learned to wrap something around his hands for a different feel, or to at least chose something without a closed end.

For a while, he'd used a pair of panties, stolen from an ex-girlfriend. Carla had put the kibosh on that roughly four weeks into their relationship. Things had been fine for a while afterwards, but when she got big and stopped enjoying sex, he'd had to get creative in his search for mastubatory aids.

Which was why he ended the ocasional shift with a wank into the mouth of a plastic Dinky The Dinosaur toy.

Cliff Briscoe had given it to him once word of Carla's pregnancy began to spread. Cliff's store didn't carry much in the way of baby toys, but the dinosaur figurine was more durable and less toxic than the RepConn rockets. Cliff had given it to him at the beginning of a long, mind-numbing shift. Boone took it into the snipers' nest with him, and promptly forgot about it.

A few weeks later, he found himself extremely hard for no reason in the middle of the night. Before Carla got pregnant, she hadn't been above sneaking into Dinky's mouth for a quickie during a shift. Boone was halfway convinced she'd conceived during one of their on-duty trysts, and he made a mental note to never mention that to anyone, least of all the kid.

Things were different now. Carla was prone to crying jags, and they hadn't been able to comfortably have sex for about a month. None of her pregnancy books made any mention of pregnancy sex, let alone how to do it without someone (usually her) crying. Boone had read the indexes of the books through dozens of times, and had never found any mention of sex, no matter what name he looked it up under. Pre-war doctors seemed to be operating under the assumption that married couples stopped wanting to screw the moment the egg's perimeter was breached.

So that was why Boone, in a moment of sexual frustration, remembered the dinosaur toy he'd stashed underneath the loose floorboard in Dinky's mouth, and then jerked off with it.

He was a little hesitant about the dinosaur's little plastic teeth, but they were flexible and he'd definitely fucked worse (Nuca Cola bottles and Marlene Hendrickson came immediately to mind).

It was a little strange at first, but it was more comfortable with spit and pre-cum as lubricant. It was nice to have something other than his hand around his cock, even if that something had been given to him by a fifty-five-year-old man who smelled like stewed cabbage and loneliness. He worked up a nice rhythm, and when he came, he felt better than he had in days.

Good enough to warrant a repeat performance a few nights later, good enough to begin wondering how he'd ever masturbated without the aid of a green plastic dinosaur. But not good enough to make any mention of Dinky to Carla, and not good enough to consider bringing the little guy home with him.

A few nights later, he went to Cliff and asked if he could have one of the rockets 'for the baby.'


End file.
